


Protocol: Overdrive

by yoshizora



Series: Pre-Flamebringer [7]
Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2
Genre: F/F, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 13:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14812475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: The development of the Overdrive Protocol leads the way to a new realm of possibilities for Blades.“You could keep your memories, Brighid."





	Protocol: Overdrive

**Author's Note:**

> the overdrive protocol is likely just an in-game thing that doesn't actually have a presence in the canonical world, but i thought it was a neat concept anyway. also i farmed like 50 of them and now i have way more than i know what to do with

The doctor doesn’t even seem like a proper doctor, but that’s what he insists he is and arguing over the formalities of his self-ascribed title would be a waste of time. So, _the doctor_ leads Mòrag and Brighid to a freight elevator and they descend into the Titan’s body. The clashing of factory noises becomes louder, and the air gradually becomes stuffier and stuffier from the Titan’s heat.

The heat only gets worse the deeper they go. The walls may be artificial and the passageways kept more or less clean, but there’s the unmistakeable scent of organic decay hanging all around them, beneath all the oil and rust.

“Doctor,” Mòrag says, staving off her hesitation before he can notice. “Why exactly are you consulting me on this matter? Should this not be presented to your immediate superiors, first?”

“I knew you’d ask that— I figured, if I can get the Special Inquisitor’s approval first, it’ll be a guarantee that the officers and the Senate would be on board— even His Majesty himself, I’d wager. Ahh, I know it will. We’ve been so close for years and we’ve finally _made it._ It’ll work! I can promise you that, Special Inquisitor!”

Brighid lightly coughs, a vocal expression of her skepticism, but if the doctor notices he doesn’t mind. Or he’s tactful enough not to snap at the Empire’s Jewel.

“The higher-ups in R&D’s been up our team’s entire arse about the deadlines, especially as of late.” The doctor stops before a set of heavy steel doors. He digs for the keycard in his pocket, still mumbling more to himself than to Mòrag. “Been working ’til I thought I’d drop dead. But it’ll work! We’ve looked over it again and again and again—“

“Doctor.”

“—Right! This way, ma’am.”

They may be deep inside the Titan’s chest cavity where the R&D Department works out of sight of the sun, but it’s still well-lit by both electricity and ether. Mòrag can only imagine how disorienting it must be to spend long work hours down here, where it’s impossible to discern day from night. She takes note of Brighid’s discomfort.

“Would you like to wait at the surface for me?” she murmurs to her, low enough that they can’t be heard. “I won’t mind, really.”

Brighid quickly shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

“Here we are!” the doctor cheerfully announces. They’ve come to a room lined with tall pieces of machinery that are mostly unrecognizable. One of them is hissing steam. Papers are strewn across flat tables and some had fallen to the floor, and there’s a soldier dozing off in the corner.

At the other side of the room, almost unassuming, is a cot covered in crumpled sheets. A large brute Blade is standing beside it. He blinks owlishly at Mòrag and Brighid, but seems unsurprised to see the doctor.

Mòrag clears her throat. “So, about this project your team has been developing. The… _Overdrive Protocol._ ”

“Yes! The Overdrive Protocol.”

Brighid still seems skeptical.

“Special Inquisitor, I’m certain you’re aware of the dire circumstances our country finds itself in, regarding our numbers in the Imperial Army.”

“You mean our shortage of Drivers.”

“Exactly! That’s exactly it. We’ve even resorted to scrounging up any able Gormotti from the streets of Torigoth. That really says something, when most of the Gormotti we’ve ended up with are hardly even qualified to serve to the Empire's standards.”

“I hope you haven’t brought me all the way here for a lecture on how our military handles recruitment.”

“A-ah, pardon me…” The doctor coughs and gestures to all those strange bits and pieces of machinery. “The Overdrive Protocol is… a device that enables the complete transfer of a Blade from one Driver to another. A _complete_ transfer. No strings left attached whatsoever.”

“The bond between a Driver and Blade is a tangible thing,” he continues. He gathers up several papers, seemingly at random, and offers them to Mòrag for her to look over. The doctor continues sifting through more papers as he speaks. “You can see it, and feel it, and even disrupt the flow of that shared ether. But you could never break it. Not really. Perhaps affinity can be dampened in battle, and the ether may run low, but the Blade will still be innately bonded to the Driver, from the Core Crystal to the heart. From… ether to ether. The fact that a Blade’s life hinges entirely on that of the Driver’s is solid enough proof.”

“Think of the Driver as… a lock. A lock can have multiple copies of a key. The keys— those are the Blades that have resonated with the Driver. A key cannot fit into a different lock, and a lock cannot be unlocked by the wrong key. If you attempted to fit the wrong key into the wrong lock…”

“For instance,” The doctor waves a hand to the Blade standing beside the cot. “If I carried that Blade’s weapon and tried to use his ether, I could very well lose the use of my hand. No— my whole arm! The pain would be unimaginable.”

“But this is not exactly an issue in of itself. There has never been a need to share a Blade, as they aren’t _meant_ to be shared. But, for the Blades in service of the country’s military… is it not a waste for them to lose all memories of their time fighting for our Empire? The years of training, the years of loyalty— all gone, just like that, the moment their Driver passes on. Retraining Blades all over again is just extra resources that could be allocated elsewhere, I say!”

Mòrag is silent for a long moment, skimming the pages she had been given. Finally, she slowly raises her head to stare at the doctor, cautiously neutral.

“So you intended to discover a means to transfer Blades before the passing of their Drivers. That way, they don’t return to their Core Crystal and retain their memories.”

The doctor eagerly nods. “Yes, ma’am! To return to my initial analogy, we would essentially reforge the key to fit a different lock.”

“Mmh… but that surely can’t be the only purpose of the Overdrive Protocol.”

His smile slightly fades. “There have been… discussions, of other uses…”

“Such as seizing the Blades of prisoners without the need for execution.”

“… Yes.”

Mòrag is careful to avoid Brighid’s gaze as she sweeps her eyes across the room. The doctor’s team has clearly been hard at work. It’s a mess. That soldier who had been dozing off in the corner hasn’t even stirred yet.

“A Blade like that would be very unwilling to work with its captors, I would assume.”

It would be _cruel_ , she thinks.

“That’s what I thought too, ma’am,” he gravely nods. “But, enough of that. Today, right here, I’ll show you what an Overdrive Protocol can really do.”

It’s not a terribly grandiose presentation, but Mòrag is actually rather relieved that there’s no audience as there usually is whenever the R&D Department comes out with their latest technology. She can practically hear the mutters of those in the Senate who have been buzzing about going to war with Uraya. A Blade loyal to the enemy would be useless to them, but less useless than a dead Driver and a dull Core Crystal. 

Having more prisoners of war would…

No, she doesn’t want to think about war. Not right now.

The doctor is holding something that’s rather unassuming for something so groundbreaking. It fits snugly in the palm of his hand, like a Core Crystal, but lacking any sort of color and less… organically geometrical in shape. It’s clearly an artificial thing. He moves to the other side of the room where the Blade is still quietly standing. Mòrag and Brighid follow.

When they get closer, they can see a person on the cot. It’s an old man, wizened and scarred. He blearily opens his eyes when the Blade gently touches his shoulder to announce the presence of his visitors, but Mòrag can see that he’s blind.

“A long-retired veteran and his Blade,” the doctor explains. “Who graciously volunteered to be our first test subjects for the Overdrive Protocol. And the Driver the Blade is to be transferred to— hey, you! Wake up!”

“Uh— y-yessir! I’m awake!” The soldier who had been sleeping in the corner startles, and stiffens up when he sees the Special Inquisitor. He practically slams his hand against his head in a swift salute. His glove makes a dull _thonk_ against his helmet. “Special Inquisitor Mòrag! Ma’am!”

“At ease, soldier.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Mòrag turns back to the doctor. He’s muttering to the Blade, who nods and holds his palms over the veteran’s body. She sees the tether of ether flow from his Core Crystal, naturally finding its way to the old man’s chest. The glow is weak— a sign of the old man’s deterioration? Is he really that close to death?

The soldier approaches and delicately takes the Overdrive Protocol between his thumb and forefinger. He takes a deep breath, and lowers it to hold between the Blade and his Driver, directly in the path of the ether. The ether link flickers, seemingly filling the core of the device instead of simply flowing around it or being cut off, and…

The old man coughs. The ether link is no longer extending into his chest. It had been… trapped, in the Overdrive Protocol, which is now being carefully cradled in the palm of the soldier’s hand, in the same manner of how one would clutch a Core Crystal before resonance. It's faintly glowing. All is deathly silent. The only sounds that can be heard are the rumblings of the factory, and the soft wheezing of the old man.

Ether is spilling out from the Overdrive Protocol and across the soldier’s hands. It crawls across his gloves and seeps into his skin, and Mòrag hears Brighid sharply inhale as the ether that flows from the Blade’s Core Crystal gently takes hold in the soldier’s chest. The Overdrive Protocol almost immediately crumbles apart without so much as a warning cue once it’s all done and over with.

They all stand there in silence for what seems like an eternity. Then, the doctor half cries and half cheers in relief as the soldier flashes a thumbs up.

"It— it works!  _Yes_ , it works!!"

Neither of them seem to notice the mournful look the Blade gives his old Driver. And only Mòrag hears the faint, faint whisper that comes from the old man's slightly parted lips. He may not be able to see, but he must certainly feel the absence of that ether.

“Go on… enjoy the rest of your life…”

  


* * *

  


The rest of it is mostly formalities. They won’t be presenting the Overdrive Protocol properly until they’ve monitored that Blade and his new Driver for a while longer, but Mòrag expects that approval will be given for the production of more of those devices soon enough.

Indol would have _words_ to say about it, Mòrag suspects, once they find out what the Empire had just created. But for now, they’ll be keeping it all under wraps.

Brighid hasn’t said a word the entire day, not since they were in that room where the Overdrive Protocol had been developed. It isn’t until they’re in the privacy of Mòrag’s own quarters that she lets her shoulders relax.

“Well?” Mòrag sits beside her once she’s shed the weight of her armor pieces. Brighid already has her journal out, but it remains closed on her lap.

“… It sure is something.”

“Indeed. The technological prowess of Mor Ardain is not to be trifled with.”

“Hm.”

Mòrag already has a pretty good idea of what Brighid is thinking. She may not have said anything in the room, but…

Maybe Brighid heard the old Driver’s whisper, too.

Mòrag had never been one for flowery words of comfort, but now, she suddenly wishes she knew what to say about it. The doctor had never mentioned how that Blade felt about being transferred. But why would the doctor care? That Blade is simply a weapon of the Ardainian military. Besides, who better than to test such a groundbreaking tool on than a volunteering man already upon death’s doorstep?

They could use the Overdrive Protocols to pass Blades from Driver to Driver, or to seize enemy Blades for themselves, but Mòrag can only think of one potential use for them.

“You could keep your memories, Brighid,” she slowly says, looking down at Brighid’s journal. “The Overdrives would be produced in extremely limited quantities, but given my status within the Empire, reserving one for you before my death should be a trivial issue.”

“You’re still quite young, Lady Mòrag. Is it really so appropriate to be planning for your death so soon?”

“Given my line of work, I must be prepared for all possibilities at all moments.”

Silence falls over them. Brighid traces her fingers across the cover of her journal. The idea of bypassing the curse of all Blades, to be able to retain her memories from Driver to Driver… yes, she’s certain that she had yearned for such a thing in many of her lifetimes. Otherwise, there would be no journal in the first place.

But now, hearing Mòrag so nonchalantly planning things in advance for the day she dies, Brighid isn’t so sure anymore.

“Well, what happens if you’re suddenly felled on the battlefield? I’d return to my Core Crystal before an Overdrive and my next Driver can even be brought over.”

Brighid could nearly relish the look of discomfort that spreads across Mòrag’s face.

“I— that would never happen. I wouldn’t allow it.”

“No, I suppose you’re too strong to ever be defeated in battle,” Brighid says with the slightest of smiles. “Though if you’re not careful, that ego of yours may become unmanageable.”

Mòrag doesn’t laugh. She’s still staring at the journal.

“… Don’t bother reserving an Overdrive for me, Lady Mòrag,” she finally says, when Mòrag remains silent. Mòrag’s head snaps up.

“Are you sure? You’ll have plenty of years to think it over.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I’m already sure of it.”

“But, why?”

Oh, Mòrag. Her Mòrag. She must know the answer, but her bewilderment is genuine, bordering on pure confusion. It must seem strange for someone like Brighid to turn down the opportunity to keep her own memories so readily, but.

Brighid takes one of Mòrag’s hands in her own, and tugs her glove off to let her flames lick against her bare skin.

“Because I don’t think I would be able to bear that grief of losing you.”

 _Now_ she gets it. Mòrag interlocks her fingers with Brighid’s, but she frowns.

“So you would rather forget about me.”

“It would be less painful.”

“… How selfish of you.”

“You’re the one who considered taking an Overdrive for personal reasons in the first place.”

Mòrag squeezes her hand.

“Mor Ardain would undoubtedly benefit with your lifetimes of wisdom and experience…”

“The Titan is _dying._ When it dies, that’s that. There’s no bringing it back. At times… we have no choice but to allow things to pass.”

“Do you think developing the Overdrive Protocol was a mistake, then?”

Brighid pulls her hand back, to Mòrag’s dismay, but only to remove her cap. She’s so young, yet so many in the military already defer to her authority. Brighid was the first to offer her utmost loyalty and respect. For that, she’s proud of that claim, but she’s also the only one who really understands the full extent of Mòrag’s concealed naiveties.

Of course it wasn’t a mistake. The Overdrive Protocols will see proper usage, for the benefit of the Empire. And if not for the Empire as a whole, then at least some Blades within the military will have that choice to keep their memories and be passed onto a new Driver.

Maybe that Blade was happy with his old Driver’s decision, then, in spite of his sorrow. Brighid mildly regrets not asking him before they left.

She shakes her head. “The Empire will only grow stronger, from here on out.”

Then, to her surprise, Mòrag leans in closer until she’s practically upon her, wrapping her in a loose embrace that’s far too awkward to be called intimate. Yet, it’s warm, and Brighid can tell she means it.

“I… only thought it would be nice, if you could remember me even after my death.”

“I understand, Lady Mòrag.”

“Perhaps I’m being selfish, after all…”

It must be an Ardainian thing, Brighid quietly jokes to herself. Or it’s just Mòrag, too caught up in thinking of all the different possibilities that the new tech could be used for. Blades could remember. Drivers could be remembered, as well.

“I’d like to enjoy this life I have with you to the fullest,” she says, threading her fingers through Mòrag’s hair. “And in this life, I will only ever belong to you.”

Mòrag’s back quietly rises and falls with slight shudders, her breathing unsteady. “Hearing you say that brings far more joy to me than it should.”

“You’re right; you’re being unusually selfish. It’s a nice change of pace, if I may say.”

The hug isn’t much of a hug now, more like Mòrag laying slumped against Brighid with most of her weight, unwilling to let go for now.

Admittedly, Brighid’s head had reeled with that realization at first— _she could keep her memories._ The doctor was overly-excited about the project’s completion, but she doubts he truly understood the massive scope of impact that the Overdrive Protocol could have upon the way Blades work in this world.

Mòrag isn’t really being selfish. Brighid knows that perfectly well. She had only been thinking of her own Blade’s quiet obsession with recollecting pieces of her past to cling onto. It’s only natural to want to be remembered. To be forgotten by others, but to forget one’s own self…

Would be easier than living with the memory of losing someone she loves.

“… There’s no need to think that far ahead,” Brighid finally says. “Let’s focus on the present for now, shall we?”

“I— of course. You’re right, Brighid.”

So neither of them move for a long time, simply enjoying each other’s warmth in the moment.


End file.
